


Campfire Songs

by psychoadept



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-30
Updated: 2008-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychoadept/pseuds/psychoadept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Chosen, an interlude around the campfire on the way to Cleveland.  A friend wanted me to write Ethan delivering a few particular lines from 'You Can Call Me Al.'</p><p>Set in the same 'verse as Getting to the Point, but it stands alone. Also, though it has no connection to them story-wise, this relates to Buffy Season Eight comics #3 and #4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campfire Songs

Ethan wasn't sure where the guitar came from. He didn't remember seeing it on the bus, but somehow it had ended up in the heap of equipment sitting just outside the radius of light from the campfire. To his surprise, it was Willow who thrust it at Rupert, saying, "You should play something. I remember how good you were."

"You sing?" Vi chimed in. "I want to hear!"

If Rupert expected a rescue when he shot a look at Ethan, he was disappointed. For once Ethan found himself siding with the younger folk, as they looked on expectantly. No sooner had Rupert settled the guitar in his lap, though, than he lifted it again and handed it to Ethan.

"It's a righty. You play. I'll sing."

"Me?" Ethan said, suddenly far more sympathetic to Rupert's plight. "I don't think--"

Ethan stopped when he realized that no fewer than ten pairs of eyes--well, nine pairs and one singleton--were suddenly pinned on him.

" _You_ play guitar?" The high-pitched squeal came from Dawn.

"We were in a band together," Rupert pointed out.

Ethan glared at him. "Twenty-some years ago. What makes you think I can still play worth a damn?"

The corner of Rupert's mouth twitched in a way that would have had Ethan kissing it if they'd been alone together. "Calluses."

Still searching for a way out, Ethan unexpectedly caught Xander's eye. Xander shook his head grimly. "The vultures are circling. There's no help for you now."

Ethan sighed wearily and set about tuning the instrument, which had seen better days.

An hour later, he had to admit to himself that he was having fun, though most of his audience had just dissolved into tears. They were the ones who'd insisted on singing 'We Are the Champions' (against Ethan's protests, as he could have come up with half a dozen better ways to pay tribute to dear departed Freddie) so it was hardly his fault if it was bringing up bad memories.

There were several seconds of silence after they'd finished the last chorus, and then to Ethan's utter shock Buffy stood, walked around the fire, and squeezed his shoulder. "Thanks, Ethan."

By the time Ethan had recovered enough to respond she'd moved on, grabbing a sleeping bag from the pile and wandering off in the direction of the bus. The rest of the Slayers seemed to take her departure as a cue. Within moments, they'd all peeled away from the fire, leaving only Ethan, Rupert, and Xander.

Ethan strummed a minor chord. "That was maudlin."

Rupert gave him morose half-smile. "They needed the release."

"Hmm. I need a palate cleanser."

He searched his mind for an upbeat song, and found himself plucking the opening bars of 'You Can Call Me Al.' Rupert and Xander both stared at him blankly. He stopped.

"What? So I like Paul Simon."

"I know the chorus," Xander offered.

Ethan looked at Rupert, who shrugged apologetically. "You'll have to teach me the words."

Ethan shook his head in mock scorn and started again from the top. He didn't have Rupert's singing voice, but the lyrics were more chanted than sung anyway. He'd only got a few lines in when he decided that sentimentality must be contagious. There was no other explanation for why his mind had fixated on this particular song.

He tried to ignore the sudden lump in his throat, but his voice dropped involuntarily as he said, "I need a photo opportunity," then broke entirely over, "I want a shot at redemption." The guitar fell silent, but he spoke the next two lines: "Don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard."

"Ethan," Rupert said. Ethan looked up, and found himself staring into the familiar green eyes as though his life depended on them.

"I think I'll call it a night," Xander murmured, rising. Neither of them acknowledged him.

"Ethan," Rupert said again, a few moments later.

Ethan blinked a few times, then laughed abruptly. "Can I call you Betty?"

Rupert tilted his head to the side, no doubt considering the possibility that Ethan had lost his mind. "I'm sorry. What?"

"The song. 'I can call you Betty, and Betty if you call me, you can call me Al.'"

Rupert chuckled and grinned at him. "You'd better teach me this song."

"Yeah," Ethan agreed, with an entirely disproportionate sense of relief. He sat frozen for another moment, then shifted closer to Rupert, so they were sitting side by side.

To his surprise, Rupert took the guitar from his hands and set it aside. Then he scooted behind Ethan so that Ethan could lean back against him.

"Now," Rupert said, propping his chin on Ethan's shoulder and wrapping his arms around him, "tell me the rest of the words."


End file.
